


take me onto the dance floor

by potato_writes



Series: i'm standing right here on (jaime's) side [10]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Frottage, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Break Up, Quasi-Ocean's Eleven AU, With a Dash of Smut, in a sense at least, my stupid children make bad life choices once again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:08:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29677470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potato_writes/pseuds/potato_writes
Summary: Brienne can’t see anything but Jaime, his hands pressed against the back of her neck, his green eyes gleaming with hurt and unshed tears. His hair is slicked back, smooth, the strong lines of his body hidden beneath that damn suit, and she can’t look away, can’t turn her attention to Ygritte’s voice hissing in her ear or how they’re definitely attracting attention, the handsome Lannister son and the tall woman he’s cornered, because Jaime ishere, solid and warm and real beneath her hands, and she can’t bring herself to pull away.*after encountering jaime again at the gala, brienne finds herself torn between duty and want.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: i'm standing right here on (jaime's) side [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956802
Comments: 7
Kudos: 37





	take me onto the dance floor

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't _quite_ take a month to update this series again and i feel like i deserve an award for that. (i jest, but it's actually nice to be posting a bit sooner than i expected to). also now that i'm finally bringing this series back to where it began, i should mention that there are three parts and an epilogue left after this one, in case you're wondering when this is gonna wrap up. ideally, that'll be before summer, but at the rate i'm going i wouldn't put money on that actually happening.
> 
> there is a _dash_ of smut in this, although it's not very explicit. i still have too much fear to go that far.
> 
> title is from ghost quartet, as per usual. and i can be found on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/potatothecat) if you want to come yell at me there! thank you for reading, and enjoy!!

Brienne can’t see anything but Jaime, his hands pressed against the back of her neck, his green eyes gleaming with hurt and unshed tears. His hair is slicked back, smooth, the strong lines of his body hidden beneath that damn suit, and she can’t look away, can’t turn her attention to Ygritte’s voice hissing in her ear or how they’re definitely attracting attention, the handsome Lannister son and the tall woman he’s cornered, because Jaime is _here_ , solid and warm and real beneath her hands, and she can’t bring herself to pull away.

He does it for her, instead, stepping back as if burned and clearing his throat roughly. “I apologize,” he says, the emotion in his voice smoothing over and being replaced by the Lannister Mask and she hates it, she _hates_ it, this isn’t him, this isn’t the Jaime she knows and loves so much...but she did this to him, she slipped out in the middle of the night and left him alone and hurting. “I didn’t realize you were an associate of my...of my father’s. Although I suppose that’d explain a lot of it.”

She shakes her head, pushing away from the wall because no, that’s not true at all, but he’s already turning away, reaching for his glass again and sweeping back into the crowd. If she didn’t know better, she’d think him uncaring, with his expression more serene than it’s been all night, but she _does_ know, can see the tightness in his shoulders and the dull pain in his eyes, and she’s hurrying after him before she can stop herself.

“What are you _doing?_ ” Ygritte demands sharply, and Brienne ignores her even as other voices join in—one of the Jeynes asking to see, Shae wondering what’s going on in a voice that’s a little too breathless for Brienne’s liking, Sansa and Asha snapping at Brienne in turn when she continues to disregard their warnings. Instead of heeding them, she catches up to Jaime on the dance floor, right as the music shifts into a slow ballad and he spins around to sweep her into his arms and guide their dance, smooth and steady and as easy as everything else they shared before she left.

“What do you want?” he asks flatly, the anger and pain and passion drained out of his voice. “Did my father pay you to break up with me? Or was everything some illusion he’d arranged the whole time?”

“Your father has _nothing_ to do with this,” she insists—another lie, she’d never have met Jaime if it weren’t for his father. “He’s not paying me anything. I doubt he even knows who I am.”

Gods, she hopes Tywin doesn’t know who she is, or they’re all fucked. Jaime doesn’t seem inclined to reveal her to his father, though, as he tugs her closer until there’s almost no space between their bodies and they’re dancing almost inappropriately close together. His eyes are fixed on hers, heat and anger and pain flaring within their depths, and she couldn’t pull away even if she wanted to, even though it’d be so easy to yank her hand out of his and race away like she should, like her teammates are urging her to.

“Then _why_?” he demands, leading them both in a wide arc across the floor. “What did I do to make you run off in the middle of the night, leaving behind a fucking _note_ that doesn’t explain anything at all?”

She opens her mouth, then closes it again, unable to put together a lie that he might believe. But she can’t tell him, no matter how much she wants to. She’s endangered this mission enough already, and none of the others will forgive her _that_ slip.

“I’m sorry,” she says miserably, unable to give him the answer he deserves. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Jaime, but I...I couldn’t stay. Nothing I touch lasts forever, and I refuse to watch someone else I l—I care for get hurt.”

“That’s not an answer,” he snaps, his eyes flashing, but his hand doesn’t move from where it’s pressed against the small of her back and he doesn’t pull away like she thought he would. “If it was just a fling to you, that’s _fine_. But you could at least _tell_ me that, so I know not to get my hopes up that…”

He cuts himself off abruptly, his gaze finally shifting from hers to stare over her shoulder. A desperate, hopeful, _foolish_ part of her wants to know what he was going to say, but she bites down hard on her tongue. She has no right to hope, not after what she did to him. Not after what she’s currently doing to his family. 

“ _Lie to him,_ Brienne,” Ygritte hisses in her ear, offering worthwhile advice for the first time since Jaime appeared at the gala. “Tell him it meant nothing to you so you can get the fuck out of here while you still can.”

Brienne’s always been a terrible liar, even in the midst of pulling off a heist in the heart of enemy territory, but she can do this. She can muster up one lie for Jaime— _for his protection_ , she tells herself, even as she knows it’ll break the last tenuous connection between them, and then she’ll never see him again. _It’s for the best_. _We’ll only get hurt more if we keep trying._

“It was only sex,” she tells him in a flat monotone, tugging free of his embrace and leaving him frozen mid-step on the dance floor. “It’s not my fault you had higher expectations than I did.”

Pain flashes across his face for an instant, and then anger stirs in his eyes and he takes a step forward. “Don’t lie to me, Brienne!” he says loudly, too loudly, before spinning on his heel and walking away. Several heads swivel, first in his direction, then hers, and it’s enough to cement her decision. People have already noticed her argument with Jaime; what’s left to lose if she goes after him one more time, if only to make him understand?

She races after him before she can think better of it, before Ygritte’s snarl of, “Don’t you _dare,_ ” can stick in her mind, before they attract more attention than she can afford. Jaime hasn’t gone far; just retreated to an alcove tucked into a corner, hidden enough that neither she nor Asha had noticed it during their reconnaissance mission at the hotel a week before. He doesn’t look surprised to see that she’s followed him, but his grim expression does nothing to reassure her that she’s making the right choice.

Maybe she _should_ have followed Ygritte’s advice and left the instant he stepped back. Her selfish desire to bask in Jaime’s light, to soak up as much of him as she can get might be putting the entire mission at risk, and she’ll never forgive herself if the others get caught because of her. She’s already had her time with Jaime, has already given up whatever might have been between them. Following him now, trying to seize this last moment with him, it’s the most foolish thing she’s ever done, and the most dangerous as well.

“What do you _want_ , Brienne?” he hisses at her, standing stock-still near the back of the alcove as she steps closer, letting the noise of the gala fade away behind them. “Money? Fame? To be able to brag about fucking Tywin Lannister’s golden heir?”

 _Information,_ she almost says, but that’s not strictly true. It hasn’t been true since the first night she spent with him, when it became clear he was useless for anything other than idle gossip that didn’t really factor into their plans but they occasionally relied on anyways. She can tell herself it had a purpose all she wants, but deep down she knows she kept coming back to him because she wanted it, wanted _him._ Still does, if the way her heart leaps towards him with each beat is any indication. 

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” she says at last, and it turns out that’s true, too, because his expression softens and he reaches out for her. She lets him cradle her face between his palms and tug her closer, lets her gaze meet his, and quietly mourns the fact that this is their last moment together, the last chance they’ll have to say all the things they didn’t during their time together.

Or at least he will, because she can’t afford to tell him anything, can’t even admit that she loves him without it bumping up against the truth she’d inadvertently shared with him. Her wants _don’t_ matter, not in the face of the heist and the reasons that drove her and her teammates here in the first place, not when matched up against all the people Tywin Lannister will no longer be able to hurt. Jaime is beautiful, and tempting, and here, but he could never be hers. She’s taken far too much of him already.

“It matters to me,” he whispers, bright-eyed and earnest and so _naive_ despite everything, and she closes her eyes, unable to bear it any longer. 

Then his lips are pressed to hers, and any and all thoughts flee her head. 

It’s as easy as it was in the months before, when the heist had yet to come between them and she could keep shoving her doubts to the back of her mind, forgetting they were there. His mouth is hot against hers, his hair as soft as ever when she twines her fingers in it, and he’s terribly, irresistibly familiar, leaving her eager to curl up beside him and remain in this moment forever, forgetting the gala and the heist and all the reasons why this is the worst idea she’s ever had and just existing, with Jaime in her arms and their tongues dancing together.

“This is _not the time_ ,” Ygritte is saying in Brienne’s ear, but her voice is distant, trying vainly to swim through deep water and reach Brienne as she happily drowns in Jaime, and she pays no heed to it. Some murmuring part of her knows Ygritte is right, that she needs to get out _now_ , before Jaime or one of the Cleganes or _someone_ figures out what’s going on, but it’s so easy to ignore when Jaime’s here, melting against her as she backs him towards the wall, all the while continuing their kiss as if it’d kill her to stop.

When she finally pulls away, gasping for air, Jaime’s staring up at her with wide eyes, something dark and heady lurking in his gaze, and she gorges herself on it, on the lust crackling between them and the knowledge that this’ll be the last time they meet unless something truly miraculous happens to intervene. He offers her the same smug grin he’d worn that first night at the bar, but this time there’s something else behind the expression, something sad and terrified and lonely. He’s hurting as much as she is, knows this is their last chance with the same desperate longing she feels, and it’s too much to bear, so she surges forward, kissing him hard again and pressing forward until his back’s against the wall.

He returns the kiss eagerly, his mouth frantically moving against hers as if he intends to get drunk on the taste of her kisses, on the sensation of her body melded to his. She can’t blame him for it—after all, she’s doing the same thing—but gods, this is not making it easier, not making her more likely to do what she _knows_ she needs to. 

His leg shifts until it’s between both of her own and his thigh is firm and solid against her cunt, making her gasp into his mouth and grind down against him. She hasn’t—not since that last night together—and gods, it feels so _good_ , having him here with her, rolling his hips against her leg, devouring her mouth like a starving man who’s finally been presented with a meal.

They’re both rubbing against the other, too desperate and frantic to bother moving their hands, and for a brief, delirious moment she wonders what might have happened if she’d stayed, if she’d ignored the warnings of her friends and the pained voice in her head telling her the truth she’d tried to disregard for far too long. Why, oh _why_ did she ever think she could give this up, give _Jaime_ up? Nothing in her life could possibly compare to having him here, his hard cock pressed against her hip, his leg brushing against her cunt every time she shifts. What prize could possibly be worth the cost of losing him?

Brienne very abruptly realizes Ygritte’s gone silent, that she hasn’t heard any hissed warning in her ear for far too long, and it’s the sign she needs to _finally_ tear herself away from Jaime, still panting and desperate and longing to stay. If something’s happened to Ygritte, they’ve lost their best hacker, and their only real escape, and she was supposed to be _paying attention_ to anyone heading for the wrong exits, not letting Jaime Lannister lure her into a corner and grinding against him until she’s hungering for release. 

Saying _he_ lured her gives him too much credit, though. _She’d_ been the one to follow him, the one to recklessly go after him even when he’d been angry and snarling on the dance floor. He hadn’t asked her to do this, hadn’t asked her to come and break both their hearts a second time. That’s on her, as much as she’d like to pretend it isn’t. 

But it hurts, it _hurts_ , seeing him like this, with realization dawning in his gaze, his face flushed and his cock heavy and swollen in his pants, and it’s her fault, _her fucking fault_... 

“I’m so sorry,” she tells him miserably, and this is why she’d had to leave in the night before, she’d _known_ she couldn’t do this if she had to see his face. “I...I have to go. I’m sorry.”

“Wait—Brienne—no!” he shouts, pushing off the wall and reaching out for her, his eyes pleading, _begging_ , and she whirls away, dashing out of the alcove before she looks at him any longer because she can’t, she _can’t_ …

“I’m so sorry, Jaime,” she whispers again, ignoring how he calls after her again, how he falls silent as if realizing the same awful truth she already has. “I love you so much, and I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

***

When Brienne finally makes her way into the alley, the first person she sees is Ygritte, standing beside the van with her arms folded over her chest and a glare creasing her forehead. Something of her distress must show on her face, though, because the other woman eases almost immediately, stepping towards Brienne with a worried look.

“You alright?” Ygritte asks, her frown deepening when Brienne doesn’t even bother to lie and just shakes her head in response. “Listen, I know I yelled at you in there for taking such a risk, but I do get it. If you want Lannister, none of us have any right to stop you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Brienne whispers, for the second time that night. Whatever happens once they release the information they now have, there’ll be no forgiving how she left Jaime a second time. She’d seen the stricken look on his face, the way he tried to reach out to her as she raced away, had heard him call her name once, twice, three times with increasing desperation before she’d glanced back to see him slumped against the wall, looking as if she’d taken all of his strength with her when she fled. “Whatever he and I might have had is over.”

Most of the others are in the van already—she can see Jeyne Westerling helping Arya wrap her ankle through the window, and Sansa and Joy are quietly chatting while Shae sits slumped over next to them—but Asha sticks her head out of the passenger window to join Ygritte in frowning at Brienne. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” the munitions expert offers with surprising gentleness, considering her usual rough manner. “The way he was looking at you, Brienne...it was the look of a man who would forgive some pretty awful things if it meant he got to see you one more time.”

“We want you to be happy,” Ygritte adds, her brow furrowing. “I don’t like the Lannisters, not even your pretty one, but...he made you happy, Brienne. You can deny everything else, but you can’t deny that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Brienne repeats, a little louder. Water splashes on her cheek, and she looks up, expecting to see rain. The sky is cloudless, though, the moon shining bright up past the lights of King’s Landing, and it’s then that she realizes she’s crying, silent sobs wracking her body despite their success, despite the fact that they’ve never been closer to taking down the Lannisters than they are in this moment.

“No, it matters,” Asha says fiercely, hopping out of the van and wrapping an arm around Brienne’s shoulders. “ _You_ matter to us, Brienne. And that’s more important than any opinions we might have about Jaime Lannister, or even the success of this mission. You’re our friend, and you’ve already sacrificed so much. We don’t want to see you give up on the best chance at happiness you’ve had in years.”

Brienne smiles faintly, before choking out, “ _Thank you_ ,” in a thick voice. Asha shifts positions and tugs Brienne closer, pulling her into a hug and holding her close for several long moments, until her tears have stopped and her mind is no longer muddled by the fog of Jaime’s presence at the gala.

“We’re here for you,” Ygritte adds in a soft whisper when Brienne finally steps away, pulling the van door open but pausing before she climbs in. “Whatever you might need in the days to come, we can help you with it. Even if you decide this is it, that you and him are over...you don’t have to go through this alone, Brienne.”

Brienne just nods this time, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. She follows Ygritte into the van a moment later, while Asha returns to her seat in the front and Jeyne Poole starts the engine up. As they slowly pull out of the alley, Margaery and Shae both shift closer to Brienne, Shae covering Brienne’s hand with one of her own and Margaery offering her shoulder with a sad smile. Brienne lets her head drop to rest on Margaery’s shoulder, staring at where Jeyne Westerling and Arya and Ygritte are talking quietly on the far side of the van.

 _I’m so lucky_ , she thinks, not for the first time, _that these women agreed to work with me_. She’d pulled them into a terrible conspiracy, asked them to risk their lives in an attempt to take down a family that had already wronged them in such horrible ways, and then gone and fallen in love with a member of said family, and yet they’d taken it all in stride, never judging or calling her a fool even when she absolutely deserved it. She may have lost Jaime tonight, but she’s gained these friends, these ten wonderful women she loves so dearly, and there is no force in the universe that could make her give them up now.

She slowly drifts off with her head resting on Margaery’s shoulder, lulled by the quiet conversation of her teammates and the motion of the van as it moves through the still-crowded streets of King’s Landing. And for once, despite having seen him not an hour ago, she does not dream of Jaime. 

**Author's Note:**

> brienne finding a strong circle of women she can call friends is pretty much my only desire right now. well, that and a morning where i _don't_ wake up at an entirely unreasonable hour. 
> 
> the next instalment will appear whenever it's ready. probably a month from now, if i hold true to my usual ways. my other wip is consuming too much of my life for me to have enough time to get it written quicker.
> 
> we _are_ going to eventually see what happens with the heist after brienne leaves jaime in the alcove. not next part, because that's gonna be something else, but the one after.


End file.
